Aug 2011
I. Tragedy In Forms Of Ones' Confusion In This Mental State Called Reality
Love's lust lost second
of quiet lovers' bitter secrets,
in forms of sins and tragedies
trapped in their own guilt.
Time's ticking last minute,
whose sound silently kills
the fact we never loved at all
in moments like these.
What is love? People ask.
And it's answer is as complicated
as the question itself, yet simple.
It's everything and nothing alone.
Life's simple, cold truth
is hidden under the empty tears
of the dying ones in broken homes,
waiting for tomorrow.
But tomorrow never comes
because it's always today.
So that means there's no yesterday.
May I get more in depth?
If there's no tomorrow's
or yesterdays,
then there's no past or future.
Today's our last day.
So little to do,
yet so much has been done
in this last day we live,
that lasts a lifetime.
This depths reception
of a hopeless, dreaming mind
finds tragedy in hope once again,
yet searching for nothing.
Death's eye seeks
the sins and tragedies
of time's love so shortly wasted,
lost in the cool breeze.
May the words
of forgotten dreams
be spoken and only heard
by these ears.
'Cause the fire in the rain
will put the dead to sleep again.
So, dear tragedy struck friend,
this is time's love wasted end.
II. ****** Lives Can Arrive In Colorful Wrapping
Little words, like razorblades
that slice open skin,
rusts and infects the cut,
bleed through my mind
like these open sores
you've caused me to make.
Take it or break it,
either way you got to pay for it
with the sweat on your back
and the tears of the broken people
living on the edge.
Little problems, like scars
that leave a never forgotten
memory of shameful mistakes,
that can't be solved by
cheap alcohol and drugs.
You can't solve my problems,
I can't even solve them myself.
By bleeding, drinking, smoking,
till I can't move or make a sound,
to where I'm not even breathing.
I may seem normal with no problems,
nothing to worry about, I'm just a kid.
Funny how wrong you are
and make stupid assumptions
always thinking you're right.
But smoking, drinking,
and these infected cuts
aren't for nothing.
Leaving me speechless,
can't move,
not breathing...
I'm already dead on the inside,
so why not complete it with this final goodbye?
III. Four Lines
Lifeless, cold, and brokenhearted am I
The lover, the hero, the cherished that died
In all Earth's beauty, the world did cry
For my body is resting under the starry sky
IV. Sorry, But I'm Optimistically Pessimistic
"The sun'll come out tomorrow"
If tomorrow ever comes.
Until then, I can only dream
of leaving this place
in a forgotten memory.
There's nothing left for me here
but ash and a bitter taste
that reminds me I'm alone.
Maybe I got problems,
maybe I don't.
Guess none of you really know,
or even try to understand
that this charade of smiles and laughter
is just a mask.
Just a plain old mask,
fading and decaying over the years.
'Cause what is left to live for?
This broken home,
these shattered dreams,
until every last shred of me
is fed to the dogs
only to become ****?
No, I already am a *******
who can't do anything right
in their eyes,
which only see me
when I'm to be seen.
So what's with this hopeless dreaming?
It's not stopped my drinking,
my smoking, drugs.
Hasn't stopped me from stealing
until there's nothing left to take,
but take me to bone crushing new lows
that twists and breaks me in half.
There's no turning around this time,
need to take a step forwards
instead of going backwards,
blindly setting myself
in the sight of the predator.
All I can do is sit here,
sit here and dream
for that better day.
So if tomorrow ever comes,
there will be sun.
V. There's No Place Like Kansas
A hidden talent
behind these silent tears
in this state
we call Kansas.
No one makes it
out of here,
no one makes it big.
Good luck to some,
misery to the rest.
Shall I sit here,
hopeless and too diligent
to even try.
We are broken,
bandaged, torn,
and messed up.
Yet we make it
by working
in our low paying jobs
that barely helps
us live.
'Cause it's the
same old song,
we're just another drop
in an endless sea.
And all we do,
crumbles to the ground
though we refuse to see.
We the people
of Kansas,
to the rest of the world,
all we are
is Dust In The Wind
Love's lust lost second
of quiet lovers' bitter secrets,
in forms of sins and tragedies
trapped in their own guilt.
Time's ticking last minute,
whose sound silently kills
the fact we never loved at all
in moments like these.
What is love? People ask.
And it's answer is as complicated
as the question itself, yet simple.
It's everything and nothing alone.
Life's simple, cold truth
is hidden under the empty tears
of the dying ones in broken homes,
waiting for tomorrow.
But tomorrow never comes
because it's always today.
So that means there's no yesterday.
May I get more in depth?
If there's no tomorrow's
or yesterdays,
then there's no past or future.
Today's our last day.
So little to do,
yet so much has been done
in this last day we live,
that lasts a lifetime.
This depths reception
of a hopeless, dreaming mind
finds tragedy in hope once again,
yet searching for nothing.
Death's eye seeks
the sins and tragedies
of time's love so shortly wasted,
lost in the cool breeze.
May the words
of forgotten dreams
be spoken and only heard
by these ears.
'Cause the fire in the rain
will put the dead to sleep again.
So, dear tragedy struck friend,
this is time's love wasted end.
II. ****** Lives Can Arrive In Colorful Wrapping
Little words, like razorblades
that slice open skin,
rusts and infects the cut,
bleed through my mind
like these open sores
you've caused me to make.
Take it or break it,
either way you got to pay for it
with the sweat on your back
and the tears of the broken people
living on the edge.
Little problems, like scars
that leave a never forgotten
memory of shameful mistakes,
that can't be solved by
cheap alcohol and drugs.
You can't solve my problems,
I can't even solve them myself.
By bleeding, drinking, smoking,
till I can't move or make a sound,
to where I'm not even breathing.
I may seem normal with no problems,
nothing to worry about, I'm just a kid.
Funny how wrong you are
and make stupid assumptions
always thinking you're right.
But smoking, drinking,
and these infected cuts
aren't for nothing.
Leaving me speechless,
can't move,
not breathing...
I'm already dead on the inside,
so why not complete it with this final goodbye?
III. Four Lines
Lifeless, cold, and brokenhearted am I
The lover, the hero, the cherished that died
In all Earth's beauty, the world did cry
For my body is resting under the starry sky
IV. Sorry, But I'm Optimistically Pessimistic
"The sun'll come out tomorrow"
If tomorrow ever comes.
Until then, I can only dream
of leaving this place
in a forgotten memory.
There's nothing left for me here
but ash and a bitter taste
that reminds me I'm alone.
Maybe I got problems,
maybe I don't.
Guess none of you really know,
or even try to understand
that this charade of smiles and laughter
is just a mask.
Just a plain old mask,
fading and decaying over the years.
'Cause what is left to live for?
This broken home,
these shattered dreams,
until every last shred of me
is fed to the dogs
only to become ****?
No, I already am a *******
who can't do anything right
in their eyes,
which only see me
when I'm to be seen.
So what's with this hopeless dreaming?
It's not stopped my drinking,
my smoking, drugs.
Hasn't stopped me from stealing
until there's nothing left to take,
but take me to bone crushing new lows
that twists and breaks me in half.
There's no turning around this time,
need to take a step forwards
instead of going backwards,
blindly setting myself
in the sight of the predator.
All I can do is sit here,
sit here and dream
for that better day.
So if tomorrow ever comes,
there will be sun.
V. There's No Place Like Kansas
A hidden talent
behind these silent tears
in this state
we call Kansas.
No one makes it
out of here,
no one makes it big.
Good luck to some,
misery to the rest.
Shall I sit here,
hopeless and too diligent
to even try.
We are broken,
bandaged, torn,
and messed up.
Yet we make it
by working
in our low paying jobs
that barely helps
us live.
'Cause it's the
same old song,
we're just another drop
in an endless sea.
And all we do,
crumbles to the ground
though we refuse to see.
We the people
of Kansas,
to the rest of the world,
all we are
is Dust In The Wind
